Nothing to worry about
by barktree
Summary: A continuation of events that take place after the finale. 5th chapter, Matty.
1. Chapter 1

Liv was performing magical tricks again. She'd pop a pill in to her mouth, and then disappear until the next morning, in millions of multicoloured rays and special effects. The audience clapped, amazed by her simple disappearing act. Of course, the audience was easily impressed because the audience was as fucked as she was.

Liv's nightly metamorphoses gave her sex and laughter and dark circles under her eyes, and it was all pretty smashing again, because she didn't have to see her boyfriend's eyes rolling back in his head in rapture while he gazed at somebody else. Now Liv didn't have a boyfriend anymore, and she was free to do whatever or whomever she pleased. Grinding her bottom against some nameless stranger's crotch, she wondered why the fuck she was in a relationship in the first place.

The bloke behind her lifted his hands from her hips and clasped her shoulders instead, turning her around so she was facing him. His face was pale in the neon lights of the club as he lowered his head to her ear, but whatever he was trying to say sounded like no more than a vibrating noise to her ear, and she laughed soundlessly to his face. She took him by his hand instead, and pulled him outside, away from the lights and music, and palpating mass of people where her friends swiveled around each other and where Nick stood looking at her with a drunken yearning gaze.

She pulled him outside, where they nearly collided with a sullen Rich, who was smoking a cigarette by himself. Rich shot them a disinterested glance before rolling his eyes, and it made Liv burst out with laughter. She kept marching onwards, dragging the bloke by his hand, determined to get to some undefined, hazy place appropriate for a quick shag.

They stumbled across the street, narrowly avoiding a racing car whose driver shouted words at them that Liv couldn't bother to listen. She looked around, but the bloke whose hand she kept clutched in hers, pulled her closer to him, sliding his tongue over her neck. Liv snorted and looked down at his face for the first time. There wasn't much to look at, but he will have to do.

"Don't you have a car or something?" she asked.

He ceased the assault on her neck, his head emerging from below. He blinked a few times, as if trying to remember who she was, and for a split second, Liv wondered if this was how it's always going to be.

"I don't have a car," he said, reaching to his back pocket and pulling out a set of keys. "But I do own a flat, you know."

"Well done," Liv smiled and took the keys from his hand, tucking them firmly back in his pocket. "Lead the way, then."

He took her hand back in his, grinning at her. He wasn't actually that bad looking, she concluded. _Fuck it. _She smirked at him, mostly because he was standing there with his woozy eyes and pale face, but partly to remind herself that she knew how to handle this. This is where she was.

"Liv!"

_Fucking hell. _ She didn't need to look across the street to know who called her name, but with a sigh she did anyway – and sure enough, Nick was standing on the other side, throwing his hands up in the air and waving maniacally like some messed up clown on a sinking ship. As he waved, the bottle clutched in his hand spilled all over, but he didn't seem to take any notice. He staggered across the road towards them with a huge grin on his face, and Liv braced herself for another episode of unnecessary drama.

"Liv," he said in between breaths, with his hands on his knees. "I'm so happy to see you. Like, so fucking happy. I was worried you'd left and I wanted to tell you something important, but I couldn't have if you were gone, could I?" He took another sip from his nearly empty bottle, and looked from her to the bloke beside her, the face-splitting smile never wavering from his face.

"What do you want, Nick?" she asked tiredly, stressing the last syllable of his name.

"I told you, I want to talk to you." Nick straightened up, ignoring the other bloke who was looking increasingly bored. And taking a step towards her, Nick muttered through gritted teeth. "In private."

Him and Mini were more alike than they would ever know, Liv thought exasperatedly. She shot her would-be-shag an apologetic glance, and took Nick by his hand instead, pulling him back in the other direction.

"Next time, then?" she said, looking over her shoulder. The bloke looked pretty pissed off, which only increased when Nick flipped him a finger when he thought she wasn't looking.

"Fuck you, you slag," she heard him bark, which only made her roll her eyes. Nick, who was up to that point looking like he just won a million pounds, stopped in his tracks, and tried to break free from Liv's hold, presumably to go after the bloke and make an even bigger fool of himself.

"Leave it, Nick. Let's go and talk, then, or wasn't that what you wanted?" she said sternly, grabbing him by his elbow and he complied immediately, looking all too pleased with himself.

If she didn't end this once and for all, it would never be over and done with. Her friends (if that's even how she could call them) were all like little kids, and Nick was by no means an exception. The one way to deal with children is to give them what they want, and then show them why it is bad for them. She would make Nick grow up tonight, she decided, sitting down on a bench and pulling him down beside her.

"Now," she said. "What did you want to tell me?"

Nick looked at her with a sheepish grin. "I, um, forgot."

He offered her his bottle, and Liv swallowed the urge to take it and toss it over his shoulder. She will have to keep her wits about her if she wants this to come to an end that won't make them all even more miserable and confused. She took a deep breath, and put her hand on his knee.

"Nick," she said patiently. "Stop this bullshit. I want you to quit dicking around and find it in you to get over this, whatever you think you're feeling. And the sooner you let it go, the sooner we all let out a great sigh of relief and feel alright, okay?"

Nick's giant smile finally vanished. "But I don't understand. Why are you so against us?"

"Because I don't love you, Nick, okay? It's that simple." He looked hurt for a moment, but then his face transformed again with a newfound determination.

"Maybe if you gave it a chance, you'd see that we're right for each other," he said, slurring only slightly. "We'd be fucking awesome together. Life doesn't have to be complicated. You should just dive right into it, and see where it takes you, and who knows, maybe it will take you to a wonderful, splendid face," he hiccupped. "I meant place, obviously.

He closed his eyes and rubbed at his temple, getting lost for a second, and Liv couldn't help but feel a pang of fondness. They were all babies. All of them, stupid, innocent and fucked up babies.

"And you would take me to that wonderful, splendid place, I presume?"

He opened his eyes and looked at her, blinking once. And then he smiled and nodded and there was no doubt that he knew who she was. "You bet I would," he said with conviction, lifting his hand and offering it to her.

His hand was clammy and sticky when she took it, and he smiled at her like she was something brilliant, and it was all very ridiculous. But she felt too weak and tired to do anything, really, but to take his hand and fuck off for the night.

"Let's go then," she said, standing up, and he followed, as always. "Let's go to a wonderful place that is my house. And do try to keep quiet; I don't want to deal with mom tonight."

"Yes, ma'am," Nick nodded happily, then immediately failed to keep his word by proceeding to hum some toneless tune in to her ear. She sighed, and they walked on slowly through the darkness, stopping just once when Nick absolutely had to go. As he turned around to piss all over a meticulously kept flowerbed, Liv wondered if she was ever going to find it in herself to actually sort something right, for once. It wasn't like she was supposed to sort other people's shit, but it would be nice if something actually went right just one time.

Not tonight, though. Nick zipped himself up and turned back to her, and she kept quiet even when he offered her his hand again. She took it and even though she knew that this problem would only be increased by a million after tonight, she smiled back at him.

"I won't fuck you, though," she said.


	2. Chapter 2

She has been longing for a feeling of normalcy for as long as she remembered, so when things in her life finally started to resemble all those things that she wished for, she almost forgot to take notice.

Broken hearts are normal. Love affairs happen daily. Being wanted and want back in return really isn't that revolutionary.

Sex is normal. But it isn't some magical switch that can make things right just by putting right parts of body in appropriate places.

Also – thinking that someone's finally right for you, only to find out that the way their body lays in to yours makes you want to die, in the bad way. So you nearly fall off a cliff trying to escape it, all the while thinking it must be your fault. Things like that happened before.

In all reality, Franky understands that being normal isn't something that can be achieved overnight. What she's trying to do is lay down the foundations. It may not work out every time, and sure, there are things that are bound to get cocked up in the way. Getting there slowly is what fits her more.

So she tries to hang out with Matty as much as she can. It's nice. They're of the same texture, her and Matty. He plays her music and they smoke for hours, getting lost outside and inside of their heads. Whatever shit comes out her mouth doesn't seem strange at all.

She still doesn't want to touch him, though. That's also alright.

When she's not with Matty, she's spending time with her other friends. Lately, Mini has been organising parties that seem to exclude Matty one way or another. From your standard girls' nights out to homemade parties with invitations that get lost in the post, Mini seems to go out of her way to ensure their time together is as free of him as possible.

It makes Franky feel curious. She's not imaging things, she thinks.

Especially not after Liv notices it. Rather loudly. It's just the three of them then, Liv and her and Mini (lately, Mini is always somewhere nearby Franky), but when Liv casually asks her about it, Mini smiles in a rather peculiar way. Like she knows that Liv's already aware of the answer. Still, she says that it's for Liv's sake, of course. She knows how hard it is to be around your exes so soon after breakup.

At that, Liv only snorts. And it does nothing to soothe Franky's curiosity.

And it isn't even only just that. There are smiles and touches, and the way that Mini's face lights up every time Franky enters the room. There is the soft voice she only uses when speaking to Franky and the way she sometimes looks at her. It's almost as it causes Mini pain to look anywhere else.

Then one day, Daddy Levan is out of town, so naturally, his home is where they all end up, trudging over like a determined little troop. Matty is there, obviously, but Liv isn't, so when Nick announces a party at his place, Mini has no reason to object. They're drinking the day away until Alo eagerly suggests they play spin the bottle, just to spice things up. He says it like he doesn't actually believe anyone will agree, but the next thing she knows, they're sat in a circle, with an empty bottle of Leon Levan's expensive champagne in the middle.

Rich flat out refused to participate, but much to his chagrin, Grace is the one who gleefully finishes the contents of the bottle in one swig before placing it keenly on the floor, and plopping down next to it. Franky blinks and Alo is already next to Grace, a huge grin on both of their faces.

The rest of them have no choice but follow, and as she settles on the floor, she finds Matty at the opposite end, looking in her direction with a softest of smiles on his lips. Mini, on the hand, looks as if she's lost in her thoughts, her eyes fixed on the floor. And, for some reason, it makes Franky feel slightly annoyed.

She kissed Grace and Nick already, but she especially likes it when Nick and Alo have to share a quick, awkward peck on the lips. It doesn't even bother her when she realizes that almost each time she kissed someone in her life was staged, one way or another.

Grace says, "It's your turn, Franky."

She feels silly whenever it's her turn to spin the bottle, and she thinks she this might be how eleven year-olds feel. But when Franky was eleven, she already had a string of ex-foster homes behind her and only her head as a playground. This here, this is nice.

When the bottle stops spinning, it's pointing at Matty. As she gets on her knees to scoot closer, everyone becomes quiet. Matty's face is open and his eyes are smiling, and as their lips meet in the centre of the circle of her friends and above the spinning bottle, Franky feel a pang of regret at how her lack of reaction spoils the cinematic quality of this moment. What she feels: his mouth, warm and wet. Other than that, there's nothing.

A moment passes, and then she retreats back to her spot on the floor. The look of poorly concealed happiness on Matty's face breaks her heart. She chances another look at Mini, and for once, Franky finds her staring right back, her eyes attentively searching, measuring, testing Franky. Mini is looking at her like Franky is a geometric probability worksheet or an exotic tribe. Still, she remains quiet, her face unmoving.

A strange sort of awkwardness suddenly settles among them, and it's a second before Franky becomes aware of it, that Grace declares the game over. She announces that she wants to "get fucking smashed, so if anyone knows where to find some shitting drugs, she'd be fucking grateful."

And after that, it's all over. They scramble to their feet, and it's already night-time outside. Grace is leading the way, marching through the streetlight lit world up ahead of them and pulling Mini with her, their arms intertwined.

She and Matty are in the background, a little bit behind everyone else. He takes her hand when no one is looking, and she hasn't got the heart to deny him.


	3. Chapter 3

"And one, two, three... One, two, three... For fuck's sake, Rich, move your feet!"

Gritting his teeth and stomping his way across the zealously varnished parquet, Rich swirls Grace around the dance floor, almost colliding with a suspiciously vigorous elderly couple. He has been accidentally stepping on her toes throughout the whole evening, but sadly she doesn't seem terribly phased (he secretly hopes it might make her rethink her decision of signing them both to weekly dance lessons from hell).

It's not helping that the dance teacher, Leonard, as he insists they call him, obviously holds a grudge against him: he has been watching Rich's dance moves like a hawk, immediately calling him out on every bloody mistake he makes. He also flirts with Grace every fucking chance he gets.

And if he hears one more inspirational dance quote during the evening, Rich is going to bite his own tongue off and swallow it.

"That's right, Rich, glide. Just _glide_," Leonard says, creeping up behind his back. Rich shudders.

He waits until Leonard moves on to harass some other poor soul (who, apparently, held his dance partner like she was a "Victorian corpse") and then lowers his mouth to Grace's ear, "Can we dance closer to that window so you can chuck me out?"

"Oh quit whining, Rich," she says, not even remotely perturbed. "Besides, you're getting much better."

Rich fake giggles. "Oh stop it, now you're just saying it." He lets go of her waist and waves dismissively at her face.

Grace reacts by snatching his hand back firmly, and as she takes a step back, she spins him around in an almost perfect circle.

"Well done, Grace," Leon exclaims, having obviously teleported from the other side of the room. "I love it when a lady handles her partner with a steely resolve. Now, if only said partner could dance as splendidly as you yourself do," he adds, gazing at Rich pointedly.

Rich feels a wave of righteous anger washing over him. "Of course she can dance, she's a fucking ballerina!"

"Now, now, Rich. No need to get jealous of me praising Gracie here. I'm sure if you show just a little more determination, you'll earn your own compliments, too," he says sweetly, and then, to Rich's horror, actually winks at him.

"We need to get out of here," he whispers to Grace.

When they finally do get out, after lesson is over and after Grace lets herself be yanked outside in a flash, Rich discovers he has 27 missed calls. All of them from Alo.

"What the hell," he says, before dialling Alo's number. He tries one, two, three times, but there's no answer.

"What's wrong?" asks Grace, noticing his furrowed brow. They're sitting at the bus stop, waiting for the bus to take them back to Rich's. If the bus arrives soon enough, they just might manage to sidestep Kevin before he's home from work and before he offers to make a double-date dinner for the two of them and mom.

"Nothing. He just probably wants to go to another Sluts & Pimps party."

That's where he was dragged to last week. He still can't find it in himself to forgive Alo for the utter horrors he witnessed that night. Especially the moment when that forty-something well-endowed widow pranced her way towards Rich and then held his face between her... Rich shuts his mind off like a switch.

He puts the phone back in to his pocket, and leans back into the comfort of Grace's warm body. As she places her head against his shoulder, he can't help but feel a little surge of smug satisfaction, as he always does.

"Thank you for coming to the dance lessons with me, Rich," she says, tickling his skin with her warm breath. "It made me really happy."

And honestly, it's not as if he could do anything other. "Fine, we'll go again next week," he sighs, admitting his defeat before the battle even started.

Much to his annoyance, he notices that the old lady sat next to Grace is looking at them with a sappy smile, and he lets out a muffled groan. This catches Grace's attention, and as she turns around, Rich braces himself for the neighbourly socialising that is about to follow.

And sure enough, the two of them are soon engaged in a little tête-à-tête about human relationships in general (apparently, Rich and Grace remind the old lady of herself and her husband when they were still young), so Rich takes the opportunity to dial Alo's number again. Once again, there's no answer.

The absolute wanker that isAlo is probably too high to answer, he reckons, but still there's an annoying little worm of doubt nagging at the back of his head. He tries again and again, before slamming his phone shut in frustration.

"What's wrong?" Grace asks. He doesn't want to look like Alo's fucking Mother Hen, but he just can't forget about it, either

"It's Alo, he's not answering the phone," he says, realizing that he just sounded like Alo's scorned man-lover.

In the end, Grace solves the problem for him saying that she knows how to get home by herself and commanding him to go to Alo's to see if something's wrong. It doesn't take much to convince him, though, and he feels like a complete twat as he gets up to find a taxi driver that's willing to take him to the middle of nowhere at this hour.

As he turns the corner of the street, he hears the little old lady telling Grace about her gay neighbours and how absolutely charming she finds the whole lot.

He keeps walking, not quite sure what to do next, but as he tries to remember a phone number of some willing taxi agency, his phone finally rings again. Alo.

He inhales a large breath of air, more than a little irked (and relieved). "Finally, you absolute cunt. "

It's just silence on the other end, and Rich removes the phone from his ear to look at the screen in confusion. "Alo? Are you there?"

And finally, Rich thinks he hears something, but Alo's voice is muffled and barely there and it doesn't sound like Alo at all. "What's going on, Alo? Are you alright?

"Rich. It's my dad," Alo speaks, and this time Rich can hear him clearly, but it almost sounds like Alo's weeping. "He died, Rich. I'm at the hospital."

And just like that, Rich's mind goes blank. He cannot think of fucking thing to say, so he just stands there in the middle of the street. His best mate is crying on the other end and he can't remember how to form a sentence.

"Rich? Are you there?" Alo says, his voice still not belonging to him.

"I'm sorry, Alo. I'm really sorry," he finally manages, but it's a pathetic thing to say when your best friend's parent dies, and it makes him feel even lamer and really fucking meaningless and weak.

"Yeah... Just come here, alright mate? Just come here." Rich is nodding like a madman, but of course Alo can't see him and there's silence again, so he forces his mouth to open, managing only a tiny "Yes."

As the line goes dead and Rich breaks into a sprint towards the hospital in which his friend is sitting by himself, he wonders how the hell anything could prepare anyone for what was happening. By the time he runs up to the hospital entrance, his cheeks are wet and his eyes puffy.

He stands there for a moment, wipes his cheeks and steels himself. Being composed is the least he can do for his mate now. And with one final breath, Rich enters the hospital.


	4. Chapter 4

Thank you so much to everyone who has read this fic, and especially to myrmidryad and interpol.. I really appreciate you taking time to write down your thoughts about the last chapters, it makes me so pleased. Hope the latest chapter doesn't disappoint.

_Nick_

At the day of Mr. Creevey is funeral, everyone goes their separate ways.

Nick remembers the last time they all dressed up. It wasn't that long time ago, but now he has troubles believing that bright summer's day ever actually happened. Today, the looks of their faces are still and solemn, the looks in their eyes vaguely containing the mutual understanding that reality is now somewhat changed.

It all becomes too much for him, the moment when Mrs. Creevey tears and despair drown out everything else. She's holding on to Alo's arm like it's the one thing that keeps her standing, and Nick has to look away.

He wishes he could be anywhere else, because he's afraid that this moment will remain crystallised forever in his mind's eye. But one thing that Nick Levan doesn't do is abandon others when they need him. At least, not intentionally.

So he stays there, rooted to the ground, next to his brother and thankful of his presence. But Matty looks exceptionally small and sad, and somewhere at the back of his mind, Nick makes the decision of being Matty's big brother for the day. He's not sure what exactly does it entail, this feeling, this responsibility - other than being there. Whatever fucked up nonsense the world decides to spew in their direction, at least all of them will have each other.

Somehow, Nick thinks, it just might be enough.

But it all goes to shit once the funeral is over and Alo and his mom leave the place in the back of some cousin's car. The car drives away, and soon everyone is leaving, in tiny groups of friends and relatives.

In the end, it's just them. Him and Matty, and Liv and Mini, and all the others. They just stand there, long after everybody else is gone, and Nick almost hopes someone will suggest they all go and get royally fucked up, because the silence is unbearable.

He opens his mouth to say something, and he doesn't mind making a fool of himself for the sake of breaking this still, sad sort of silence. But somehow, nothing comes out.

In the end, it's Rich who breaks it first. He tells no one in particular that he's going to walk to Alo's, and with just one look at Grace, he stalks away. She doesn't even try to follow him, and Nick kind of loves her for that. They get each other, Grace and Rich, and Nick would like something exactly like that someday.

After Rich is gone, the rest of them start walking. It's almost feels like they waited for a permission to leave. He has no clue where they're all going until they walk out of the cemetery, and then they just stand there again, looking at each other over the sunlit sidewalk by a bus stop.

Bus arrives, and Grace hops on, saying goodbye to all of them with a half-hearted smile that's barely there. Liv follows, without a single look in his direction, and a moment later, Mini goes after her. But she seems so reluctant and unsure that he really wishes to shout at her, at all of them, they don't have to go. They can stay.

Still, he doesn't.

In the end, it's him and Matty. And Franky. There's a look of sadness on her face that somehow reminds Nick of his brother, but she also looks vaguely ashamed as she walks up to them and asks Nick if she could talk to Matty in private.

Nick says yes.

He's being a good brother and Franky looks too miserable for him to refuse. They walk away, back to the cemetery, and Nick can't help feeling it's a bit of a fucked place for having a conversation.

He ends up walking into a random pub, and it's still early in the evening so the place is nearly empty. But there's a gorgeous girl sitting on a bar stool by herself, with the longest pair of legs Nick has ever seen. She is stirring her drink absentmindedly and Nick thinks she looks kind of sad, all dressed up and nowhere to go.

He doesn't try and chat her up, though. He would have, once, but he doesn't feel up to it anymore. Too much sadness for a day already, anyway.

Instead, he drinks. He orders one after another, until the familiar feeling arrives and he feels pleased enough just sitting there and cocking about. Some Polish boys burst into the pub in a happy and drunken stupor, and it's only seconds before he's raising cups with them, toasting to whatever silly nonsense they come up with together and teasing the bored and tired waiter.

He isn't sure how much time has passed when he stumbles outside, but it's already night time. He dials Liv's number, but she doesn't answer. It's a shame, because he only hoped to hear her voice, and he'd gladly even take a "fuck off, Nick."

He can hear his Polish friends singing at the top of their voices, and Nick considers going back inside and really losing it for the night. Instead, his feet move on their own accord, and he's crossing the street already, all dressed up and nowhere to go. (He vaguely remembers he didn't pay for his drinks, but he guesses it's up to the blokes now.)

There's a fair chance he'll end up wandering by himself for the rest of the evening, randomly colliding with various pubs until he faints on his bed at last. He's okay with that. Anything but going home and lying there in darkness and solitude of his room.

He misses being around a bunch of people, so he follows some group into a club he kind of remembers from before. It's a fun place with lots of flashing lights and cheap drinks, and he thinks it might be just what he needs now. He fools around for a bit, dances around a sexy, plump girl for a bit, but he soon grows bored of it all.

So he abruptly walks away from the dance floor, leaving the plump goddess in the middle of a complicated dance move. Maybe he's getting old, he thinks. He slumps down into a futon and watches people as they move together in the darkness, their bodies rolling about and filling the space, bouncing off each other.

Suddenly, there's a sound and when he turns his head, Franky is sat next to him. She looks exactly like she did that afternoon, and somehow Nick isn't even surprised to see her there.

"You like doing that, don't you?" He grins at her confused face. Of course, she hasn't got a clue. "I mean, appearing out of nowhere in one's darkest hour."

"Oh," she says, and shrugs. "Actually, I'm here with Grace and Mini. Liv is somewhere around, too. Grace said she couldn't bear being by herself anymore, and everyone kind of agreed. But no one's really feeling up to it."

There's a pause, in which Nick feels a bit left out. But he doesn't say anything.

"Is this your darkest hour, then?" Franky asks.

He's not sure how to answer that. So, he opts for changing the subject.

"Hey, weren't you with Matty?" It's just a simple question, and he doesn't mean anything by it, but Franky's face drops a little and she doesn't say anything. He wonders if he should leave it, but curiosity gets the better of him. "Is he here?"

Franky shakes her head. "I don't know where he is."

"Did something bad happen? You can tell me, we're mates, aren't we?" He says it like it needs confirmation, like it's more than just a rhetorical question.

Franky nods at him and smiles, and it dawns on him that he might not be the only one who needs reassurance. "Yeah, sure we are," she says.

"So?"

Franky looks uncomfortable, but she goes and says it anyway. "So, I told him I'm not the one who can give him all those things that he needs. And that he deserves better than that." She looks away, lifting her head to gaze at the millions of little specks of light swirling on the ceiling. Nick looks up, too. "We both do," she adds, but Nick doesn't think she's really speaking to him anymore.

They sit in silence for a while, both lost in their own thoughts."You know, someone told me the same thing once," Nick says finally, and Franky turns to look at him. He laughs, "Although she wasn't as polite."

Franky smiles, but she doesn't say anything. So he goes on, and this time, he's the one that's speaking to the sparkling ceiling. "Maybe she was right, after all."

He turns to Franky, and now they're both smiling at each other. It's nice, this being mates thing.

But their moment of bonding is interrupted by a magnificent scene of Mini and Liv dragging the absolutely smashed-looking Grace in their direction. Mini places her unceremoniously on the futon, before flopping herself down on the tiny space between Nick and Franky.

"Scoot over, princess," says Liv, before sitting herself down and lifting Grace's head on to her lap.

"She just tried to gulp down the entirety of Bristol's booze supply," Mini says.

"And then we went to the toilet to have a little puke, didn't we, Gracie?" Liv smiles, stroking Grace's sweaty forehead with her hand.

"Lies," comes Grace's mumbled reply from somewhere below and Liv lets out a little laugh.

No one speaks for a while. It's like they don't have anything to talk about.

"This is terrible. We should get out of here," Mini says softly.

"Agreed. I really don't feel like partying," Liv sighs. "But, I also don't want to be by myself."

Nick doesn't think he ever heard Liv say something so exposing, never in front of him. It makes him kind of glad. And he agrees wholeheartedly. None of them really want to be alone tonight.

Nick stands up on his feet and bends at his knees to gently scoop Grace in to his arms. Grace's head falls back, and Liv quickly gets up to place it on his shoulder. It's only seconds before Grace makes herself comfortable, squirming a little in his arms until she apparently feels cosy enough to fall asleep.

"Any ideas?" he says, turning to face them. He's very aware of the soft way that Liv is looking at him.

"We can go to mine's," Mini pipes in. "Mom's out with her latest man meat."

"We can polish each other's nails and talk about boys," he says, and Mini smacks him.

"You'd love that," she says, following him through the crowd of people, with Franky and Liv in tow.

So, at the day of Mr. Creevey's funeral, everyone goes their separate ways. But at night, they somehow manage to get together.

But much later, after they smoked the last of Franky's weed on Mini's balcony and watched the street lights turning off one by another with Grace's soft snoring in the background, Nick thinks that maybe he should have called Matty.

Tomorrow, Nick decides, tomorrow he'll be a really good brother.


	5. Chapter 5

This chapter was an absolute bitch to write, mostly because I feel like I don't know a thing about Matty. Sorry it took so long and thank you for reading.

* * *

><p>It's half past two and he's half past his mind; the bending massive treetops are forming terrible structures above his head and he feels like his whole being is projected onto images the spaces between leaves and branches create. There's a roaring lion, there's a wicked laughing pope on a broom, there's a pounding fist descending towards him. He closes his eyes, but the images are still there and it makes him feel sick how they come to life, not on their own accord, but because of him alone.<p>

This morning, Matty knew it was time to leave Bristol again. He did his best to stay, be alright. It wasn't hard.

He pressed the piano keys and Liv stood rooted to the ground.

He didn't even have to do anything in particular, and Nick already looked at him like he was a golden calf.

Everything he had said and done produced nodding and appreciation, agreeable smiles and unspoken "well-dones". He moved among others effortlessly, never having to knuckle down and never giving it a second thought.

In the end, he turned out to be just a boy, not that different from anyone else. He fell in love and told her that she belonged with him. When she said she didn't, he agreed.

He placed a bindle-stick on his shoulder and waved goodbye to Bristol's breezy dawns. As if he was some kind of a shadowy romantic hero.

The image makes his lips curl into a bitter smile. The need to run sometimes overpowers his senses, but now there doesn't seem to be anything liberating about it either. In the end, things like loss and heartbreak only feel lonelier in a self-imposed exile.

The longer he walks through forests and mountain paths away from Bristol, the less solid he feels.

It's only seconds now, only a few more steps across the dirty path until his whole being parts from him and flows away to somewhere intangible.

He doesn't know this feeling well. It's the weed and the pills and whatever he swallowed the night before, but although he's familiar with whatever coming down is all about, this feeling is far more terrifying than mere chemistry.

So he stays there, a shadow in the forest. The sun in burning a hole in his forehead and he isn't sure whether the persistent cricketing comes from inside of his head or from the trees around him.

It is then he realizes he isn't alone.

Matty feels his presence before he sees him. There's a sound coming from somewhere behind him, of twigs and branches rustling. When he finally appears on the path before Matty, the boy is looking at him with a curious expression, and Matty wonders whether he's just a figment of his imagination.

"I've been following you."

The boy's face is expressionless; he says it like it isn't a big deal. If his intention is to unsettle him, Matty thinks, he's doing a rather poor job of it. On the contrary, the idea of being followed in the depths of a murky forest somehow intrigues him.

He decides to remain silent. The boy is walking closer to where he's standing, and his figure finally becomes perfectly clear. He reminds Matty of a wirey tree, with the hair on his head sticking up towards the sky and the tint of his skin and clothes resembling the landscape around them.

"Don't worry, it wasn't for a very long time," the boy speaks again, stopping just a few steps away from Matty. "I saw you from the road up there," he points somewhere behind Matty.

"What were you doing up there?" Matty finally says. He's trying to gauge the nature of the stranger, but he can't come up with anything and he feels now, more than before, that the boy is merely his mind's invention.

"Hitchhiking," he answers, taking yet another step closer. "I'm going to Bristol."

Matty snorts. "Perhaps you should follow somebody else then."

"Do you see anyone else in the forest?" the boy says, sitting down on the path. It seems he has decided it was a chitchat time. "Go on, take a seat. You've been standing there for the last ten minutes, you may as well sit down."

He taps the ground in front of him and Matty drops his bag and sits down, facing the stranger.

"Would you like to have a snack, perhaps?" the stranger says, taking a squashed pack of biscuits from his pocket and offering it to Matty. Matty shakes his head, and the stranger simply shrugs, taking one himself and popping it to his mouth.

"So," he says, brushing away the crumbs from his shirt. "What are you running away from?"

It finally manages to take Matty aback, how quickly the stranger picks up on what he is doing. He suddenly feels threatened under the other boy's neutral gaze. Nevertheless, he remains seated.

He ponders how to answer that, and comes up with what seems the simplest answer. "A girl."

"That's funny," says the boy thoughtfully. "I'm trying to find a girl."

"Maybe we should exchange roles," says Matty. He's speaking nonsense all of the sudden, but it's his best defence mechanism.

The boy shakes his head. "No, I like my role quite all right," he says, looking at Matty. "If you don't like your role, maybe you should rewrite it."

The stranger is apparently keen on speaking nonsense, too. Matty decides he doesn't like him.

They both stay quiet for a while. Matty's newfound companion is absentmindedly plucking strands of grass from the ground, and Matty is trying to think of something to say. He's usually alright with silence, but now he finds himself slightly unnerved with the other boy's serene presence. He seems perfectly content just sitting there on the ground with a perfect stranger, in the middle of a forest.

Matty feels like he's being challenged in some subtle game of wits (or of silence? tension?), and he's losing sorely.

"You know why I followed you?" the boy speaks up suddenly.

Matty doesn't even grace him with an answer, but the boy goes on, unflustered. "It's only because I took one look at you, and knew straight away that you're England's loneliest person. You have no fucking clue where you're going."

"So you're a psycho that enjoys preying on lonely people, if that what you're saying," says Matty, annoyed by the straightforwardness in his voice.

The boy simply laughs, not offended by the least. "Yeah, I guess that came off creepy. I'm not the world's greatest speaker. The thing is, I thought it might help if I spoke to someone as lost as I am."

"I thought you were going to Bristol," says Matty.

The boy shrugs. "It's only because I have a friend there. I need to speak to her. After that, I don't know."

"Is she also 'lost'?" Matty says, forming_exaggerated air quotation marks with his fingers._

_"I think she'll be fine," the boy smiles, and looks at the ground. For some reason, Matty notices how long and soft his eyelashes look. And the boy is obviously a bumbling fool, but Matty realizes that suddenly he's feeling less miserable than he felt during the entire day. _

"So how do I rewrite it, then?" Matty asks at last, even though he really doesn't want to.

The stranger blinks and furrows his brow, as if he has already forgotten what they were talking about. And then he smiles at Matty, and replies with a shrug. "I don't really have a first clue about roles and stuff. I was just trying to keep the conversation going."

Matty realizes a part of him was hoping that the other boy would actually give him some fucking guidance. And that's really sad.

He stands up, ready to walk away to whatever place his feet might take him. For all he cares, the bullshitting stranger can sit around by himself the whole day if he wishes so. He walks past the boy's crouched figure, and for a while he thinks they will part their ways in silence.

For some reason, it makes him feel vaguely disappointed.

"Hey, where are you going?"

Matty turns around, sees that the boy is looking at him with a puzzled expression on his face.

"To rewrite my fucking role," Matty says and turns to leave, but the boy is quicker. He springs to his feet, and rushes in front of Matty, blocking his way.

"What are you doing?" says Matty warningly.

But in depths of his mind, Matty is secretly grateful he doesn't have to leave just yet. There's something about this moment that feels like a last chance, a last fleeting instant before a door closes forever.

Matty isn't ready for that door to close.

"Come back to Bristol with me," says the boy. He's looking at Matty with a serious expression on his face, before his face splits into a huge grin. "Fuck running away. I could use a friend."

Matty is almost tempted to say, "fine, let's go, take me back with you" and it's funny how that part of him quickly springs to surface. It only makes him realize how lonely and desperate he is, how he utterly doesn't want to leave, and how sad he must seem to this bizarre person that's standing in front of him like they've known each other for years.

So, he pushes the other boy away, and it's a bit rougher than he intended, because the boy trips and falls flat on his back. Matty feels a bit like a dick, but really, this isn't his fault. He sidesteps the boy on the ground, quite determined to leave, when he feels his ankle being pulled.

The next thing he knows, he's stretched out on the ground, his nose kissing the dirt and with a heavy weight of a nearly grown man on his back. The bastard actually has audacity to sit on him.

He loses all the resolve to struggle, before he even started.

A potential nutcase is sitting comfortably on his back, and Matty doesn't even budge. Instead, he moves his arm under his chin and lets out a heavy sigh. He is feeling vaguely headfucked.

"What now, you arsehole?" he asks lethargically.

"Look, I'm not trying to be a psycho," the boy says, and Matty snorts.

"Could have fooled me."

"I'm not," says the other boy, and lifts himself from Matty. Matty stands up, watches him as he shakes off the dust from his trousers. "Come with me to Bristol, and show me all the cool places."

"Fuck off," says Matty, wondering why the hell is he himself still standing there. He could easily overpower the pestering idiot if he wanted to, but a part of him is too curios to see what will happen next if he stays.

"Fine, suit yourself," the boy sighs, lifting his hands up in defeat. "Can't you at least tell me which direction is Bristol?"

Even though he feels a sudden pang of disappointment, Matty lifts his hand and points south.

The boy nods, and taking a step closer to pat Matty's shoulder, he swiftly ducks – snatching the bag Matty left on the ground.

Matty can hear him laughing merrily as he sprints off towards Bristol, Matty's bag full of pointless worthless trinkets in his hand.

He doesn't give a fuck about the bag. The fool thinks he tricked him, but he really didn't.

Nevertheless, there's a feeling of absurd optimism bubbling up inside of him and he chases after the boy, swearing and laughing at the same time.

* * *

><p>When they both get tired of inane running, the other boy allows himself to be trapped between a tree and Matty.<p>

He drops the bag on the ground and smirks triumphantly.

He tastes familiar and strange at the same moment.


End file.
